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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669394">Wait… I Killed Who??</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epicbttrfly24/pseuds/Epicbttrfly24'>Epicbttrfly24</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Scourge and Moonbeam Take on the World [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Deadpool - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Punisher (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Frank Castle, BAMF Harry Potter, BAMF Luna Lovegood, Canon-Typical Violence, Deadpool being Deadpool, Death Does Not Understand That Reference, Except Maybe Killing a National Icon, Frank Castle Adopts Harry Potter, Frank Castle Swears a Lot, Frank Castle is Harry Potter's Mentor, Gen, Harry Potter Is Going to Have to Grovel, Harry Potter Should Be Careful What He Wishes For, Harry Potter Swears a Lot, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, Humor, Luna Lovegood Is Not Amused, Master of Death Harry Potter, Mercenary Harry Potter, Pizza Will Solve Everything, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, The Author is Useless As Usual</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:41:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,525</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669394</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epicbttrfly24/pseuds/Epicbttrfly24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A routine warehouse clearing job turns bizarre when Scourge gets to meet a new friend and accidentally kills a dead man. Moonbeam is <i>not</i> amused.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Death &amp; Harry Potter, Frank Castle &amp; Harry Potter, Harry Potter &amp; Wade Wilson, Luna Lovegood &amp; Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Scourge and Moonbeam Take on the World [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173779</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wait… I Killed Who??</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set in the same universe as The Scourge. Can be read separately, however the characters and some of the references will come from the main story. Let's be honest here, it's an indulgent crack fic that I couldn't get out of my head. Rated M mostly for language, but there is a little description of blood and wounds. (No real <b>Trigger Warnings</b>, but holler at me if you think there should be.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>--- Sometime Out of Time and Space ---</b>
</p><p>
  <b>--- Somewhere? It’s Really Confusing ---</b>
</p><p>Harry woke suddenly in a blindingly white room. He dragged in a deep breath, quickly grabbing at his neck where he knew the bullet had pierced through. Fuck! That had hurt like a sonofabitch! But as he felt around for the injury, he noticed something strange. There wasn’t even a hole there… there wasn’t any pain either. Pulling his hand away to look, it came away clean. No blood. Odd. He <i>knew</i> he got shot. Probably real fuckin’ bad if it went through his neck. But, nope, he double checked… there wasn’t any hole.</p><p>Huh, bizarre.</p><p>Looking around he realized another strange thing, Moonbeam was missing. Panicking slightly, he searched the small space for her, but it was a short perusal. There wasn’t anywhere for her to hide. He knew that Deadpool and Frank were in the other end of the warehouse, clearing out the rest of the shit heads who they had come to eradicate, but Moon had been with him at the front. She can’t have gone far. Especially if this room was in the warehouse. However, he thought to himself, it didn’t even look like he was <i>in</i> the fuckin’ warehouse anymore. </p><p>Well, fuck.</p><p>He obviously wasn’t in Kansas anymore, or Jersey, where they were taking out one of the Kingpin’s numerous satellite drug operations. No use panicking when he didn’t even know what was going on. (“Don’t freak the fuck out in an unknown situation, kid. Get your bearings. Figure out the lay of the fuckin’ land. No good ever came from losin’ your cool and goin’ off half-cocked.”)</p><p>Harry gingerly stood from where he was laying on the floor, but he realized that he didn’t need to be so careful. There wasn’t any pain <i>anywhere</i> in his body. He patted himself down, checking that he had all his weapons. Yep, all accounted for. It didn’t appear that whoever had brought him here had taken anything from him. The only thing that seemed to have happened was that he was healed and moved to this room alone. This situation just got weirder and weirder the more he discovered.</p><p>The room was empty except for a solitary door. He tried to open it, but it was locked. He tried his magic, but nothing seemed to work. He was stuck. Shit. Frank would be so disappointed that he allowed himself to get captured. (Again.) </p><p>
  <i>Get your bearings, Harry. What would Frank do now? Shit, Frank would probably have shot his way out of the fuckin’ place… made himself a window or some shit.</i>
</p><p>The room itself was unnerving. It felt like an insane asylum, but the walls weren’t padded. He wished that there was a couch or something.</p><p>As the thought entered his mind, a couch appeared… white of course. Huh, fuckin’ cool. Harry reached out and touched it, verifying that it was real and not some figment of his imagination. Seemed to be.</p><p>He plopped down on the couch and stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles, waiting for something interesting to happen. If he was going to be stuck here, he might as well be comfortable. Pulling out his knife, he picked under his fingernails while he waited for something to happen, for someone to come through the door.</p><p>Harry didn’t have too long to wait before the door opened. He quickly jumped to his feet and crouched in an attack position, knife that was in his hand at the ready.</p><p>An unassuming man walked through the door, dressed in a grey three-piece Victorian suit. The coat was a darker shade of gray, while the vest and pants were lighter. He wore a white shirt with a dark grey ascot decorated with silver filigree. Harry noticed a silver chain hooked to one of the buttons on the vest, leading into a pocket. Probably for a watch. The man had dark black hair and bland features. He had the face of a person that you would pass on the street and forget about a moment later. In fact, the <i>only</i> striking feature on the man, besides his dated clothing, was his eyes. They were black. Unfathomable, onyx, pitch black. </p><p>He tilted his head in acknowledgement of Harry and gestured to the couch. “Please, have a seat. Would you like refreshments?”</p><p>Harry glanced at the man for a moment before he snorted incredulously and straightened. “Refreshments? You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. And who the fuck are you supposed to be? Mr. Belvedere? Alfred Pennyworth? No, wait! I know! You’re the blind butler from Murder by Death! Jamesir Bensonmum!”</p><p>“I’m sorry, I do not understand any of those references, Master. However, I can tell you that I do not currently go by any of those names.”</p><p>Snickering at his own jokes, Harry almost missed what the man said. “Wait… ‘Master’?? What the fuck you mean, ‘Master’?”</p><p>“Well, that is what you are, is it not? My Master? I have been waiting for you to come meet me, but you have taken a while. That is understandable, as most people do put off meeting me. Besides, time means very little to me, so I did not mind the wait,” the (getting creepier, in Harry’s opinion) man said.</p><p>Harry’s grip on his knife grew tighter, but he was starting to think that in this situation he might not win a fight. He glanced around, trying to find an exit strategy, but the fuckin’ door <i>had disappeared!!!</i> What… the… ever lovin’… fuck…</p><p>“What the fuck is this place?” Harry whispered to himself. And apparently to the weird guy too, since he was standing there, and the acoustics in the empty room were fabulous.</p><p>“Some call it the waiting area. Some call it purgatory. You can call it what you want, Master. It is, after all, what you decide to make of it,” the man said in a monotone voice.</p><p>Harry narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the other man. “Seriously, what do you mean that I’m your ‘Master’?”</p><p>“You found all of my Hallows, Master. The cloak, the stone, the wand. You are the first to bring them all together at once since Myrddin. He, regrettably, no longer wanted the job, so I had to spread my Hallows once again to find a destined one to be my Master. And you are he.”</p><p>“Ah huh. Okay, so I have all that shit that I got a while back, and that made me your Mas… hooooly fuck! You’re <i>Death???</i>” Harry breathed out in disbelief.</p><p>Death nodded, “You could call me that, Master. I have been known by many names throughout time, however. The Grim Reaper, the Angel of Death, the Pale Horseman, Thatanos<sup>(1)</sup>, Yama<sup>(2)</sup>, Osiris<sup>(3)</sup>, Mot<sup>(4)</sup>, Ah Puch<sup>(5)</sup>, Shinigami<sup>(6)</sup>…”</p><p>“Jesus fuck, man!” Harry exclaimed as he shook his head in disbelief. “Enough! You can stop! I get it, alright. You have a fuck ton of names. Uh, I was totally joking with the whole list of butler names earlier, so no need to get all ‘Death-ey’ on me and murder me or somethin’. You just kinda look like some posh butler, and you offered fuckin’ ‘refreshments’.”</p><p>Harry scoffed to himself, “And now I’m feelin’ kinda freakin’ inadequate with just my <i>two</i> names, honestly. Er, well, three if you count the whole ‘Master of Death’ tag. So, there’s no need to show me up with that many names, some of which I’ve never even <i>heard of</i>. Like, Ah Puch?”</p><p>“The Maya call me that, or their descendants do. We all know that I happened to take out the majority of their civilization around the 9<sup>th</sup> century in Earth time. Quite a few souls to claim during that era.” He nodded to himself as he spoke, as if he was remembering something fondly, but with a face devoid of emotion. “Yes, quite a few.”</p><p>“Okay, sure, we <i>all</i> remember that.” Harry snarked, as he rolled his eyes and took a deep, fortifying breath through his nose. </p><p>“So, you’re Death. I’m your Master. I remember that from Moon. She told me all about this shit, but I gotta be honest with you, I kinda thought it was a bunch of BS. You know, like some fuckin’ pep talk she would give me when she thought I needed to hear that what we were doin’ was good for the world, ‘n crap. Like when Frank or she would get hurt and I needed to focus on the job again. You know, ‘You’re chosen one, Scourge. You’re gonna do great fuckin’ things. You’ll see…’ Well, she didn’t swear or nothin’ when she was talkin’. She doesn’t say words like that, but you get the idea,” Harry told Death.  </p><p>He paused and looked at the man again, tilting his head to the side as he took in the whole package. “And, shit, man, why do you look like you walked out of some sort of Sherlock Holmes story? I thought you would be all Skeletor-ey with a skull face, black cloak, and skeleton hands holding your scythe of doom.”</p><p>Death replied, “I can appear in any form, Master. If you prefer the skeleton appearance, I have no problem changing for you. This is the form that I last used with my old Master. He preferred a visage that resembled a human, and not, as you say, a skeleton.” He looked down at his outfit and back at Harry, “Is this not appropriate attire? When the last Master of Death ended his charge, I was informed that this was the usual clothing for those on Earth.”</p><p>Harry snorted and gestured to himself. True, he wasn’t a fashion plate or anything with his tac pants, t-shirt over a Kevlar vest and well-worn dragonhide cloak and combat boots, but it was more in tune with the times than some Victorian shit. “Nah, dude, this is kinda more with the day’s fashion. But you’re cool like that. You shouldn’t change yourself for me or anyone else. Besides, I’m kinda diggin’ the steampunk vibes.”</p><p>“I do not understand that reference,” Death informed him while he tilted his head to the side in apparent confusion.</p><p>“Huh, well no worries. It’s not important. What <i>is</i> important is why I’m here and how can I get back to Moon, Frank and Deadpool. They’re probably shittin’ themselves that I’m not there and I’ve been abducted by, well, you.”</p><p>Death shook his head slowly, keeping his face blank while he informed Harry, “You have not been ‘abducted’, Master. You are dead.”</p><p>Harry stumbled back onto the couch and slumped down in a surprised huff. “What?” He breathed out into the silent room. “What do you mean I’m dead? Is that why the hole in my neck is gone? But I thought that this whole ‘Master of Death’ shit made me, like, immortal or something.”</p><p>Furrowing his brow slightly, Death explained, “No, you are not immortal, Master. You, as I said previously, are dead. You can die at any time while on Earth. If you need me to, I can explain further the meaning of death. It means that you have passed on, Master. Passed away. Left for your eternal rest. You are deceased, departed, gone, shuffled off the mortal coil. You have lost the battle with life. Gave up the ghost, so to speak. You didn’t make it. You have kicked the bucket. In other words, Master, you gambled with life, and didn’t win.”</p><p>“Wow. First of all, for someone who has killed a fuck ton of people in his short life as a merc, I had <i>no idea</i> there were so many ways to say ‘die’. Thank you for that impromptu education, you walking thesaurus, you. Have you considered a job writing for Urban Dictionary?”<sup>(7)</sup> </p><p>Death tilted his head, and his forehead crinkled a little in bewilderment. “I am not sure what you mean, Master. I currently have a ‘job’. I am Death. My ‘job’ is to reap souls when their time has come and ensure that they leave the mortal plane.”</p><p>Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, sighing in frustration at the sheer absurdity of the situation with the man in front of him. He gestured in front of where he sat on the couch and said, “You wanna pull up a chair, or make one, or somethin’? It’s weird havin’ a chat where one person is sitting, and one is standing. It makes the power imbalance more evident. Or that’s what Frank says. Either way, you’re makin’ me uncomfortable standin’ there while I sit. And I have a feeling that we both need to be comfortable for this conversation.”</p><p>A white (of course) armchair appeared, and Death sat down. He seemed like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself as he sat. He planted his feet straight on the ground and kept his spine straight, without touching the back cushions of the seat. His hands fluttered distractedly before he finally folded them in his lap. It kinda looked to Harry like the guy had never actually sat in a fuckin’ chair. (Which he considered kinda sad. The previous Master of Death should have at least thought about the guy’s comfort <i>a little</i> bit. Maybe given him a stool, or a pillow… something.)</p><p>“So, we’ve established I’m dead, I’m your Master, and, uh… well, what now?” Harry summed up, feeling rather dumb with his lack of information.</p><p>Death paused for a moment and then said, “Now you work with me, Master. You have sent me many, many souls over the years, for which I am grateful. You and I will continue to reap the souls. You can have a say in which souls get reaped, somewhat, but remember that there must be a balance in the universe.”</p><p>Nodding to himself as Death explained, Harry glanced up at the man when he stopped talking. “Balance?”</p><p>“Yes, there is birth and death. There is new life forming as old life fades. The world must remain balanced. To tip the scales in one direction would be catastrophic.”  </p><p>“Riiiggght,” Harry drawled, “No scale tipping. Tipping equals catastrophe, which equals bad juju. Gotcha.” He huffed out a breath and sighed. “So, you’re sayin’ there’s no way that I can go back to my family? Like, I’m dead dead, and it’s all over? I mean, as your <i>Master</i>, I should be able to say I want to go back, shouldn’t I?”</p><p>The pale man’s fathomless black eyes scrutinized Harry for a long moment before he said slowly, “Yeesss, I guess that is a possibility. That is, if you wanted to pursue that option, Master.”</p><p>Harry leaned back against the couch and clapped his hands in excitement. “Yep! That’s what I want! I want to go back down there and continue living my happy little merc life. I’ll come back up here in a little while… no, make that a <i>long</i> while. Like maybe after I’ve been at the merc game with the fam for another fifty or sixty years or so. I gotta take over for Frank, you understand. It’s, like, a family legacy or some shit. But right now, yeah, I wanna go back home. Or the warehouse, and <i>then</i> home. I’m pretty sure that my peeps are worried about me. And Frank freakin’ out always means more bloodshed. <i>A lot</i> more bloodshed. Oh! Hey! That might be a good thing for you, though. It might mean some more dead souls for you! But I gotta tell you, if I’m up here and not there, they’re all probably about as freaked out as Kevin’s parents were in Home Alone.”</p><p>“I do not und…”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t understand that reference. Let’s just agree that my friends and family are not dealing with me being up here that well.” Harry snarked. “Tell me about ‘pursuing the option’ of going back. How do I do that?”</p><p>“As I said previously, Master, it is all about balance. The universe relinquished your soul as a gift to Death so that another could start its life.” He gestured with his hand to make his point, “Balance.”</p><p>Harry pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and groaned. “You’re fuckin’ with me now. I mean, you <i>have</i> to be fuckin’ with me. I died so someone else could live? Who? Like I’m some fuckin’ savior?? Cus, I can tell you right now, Death… and, seriously, can we just stop for just one minute here. Fuck calling you ‘Death’. It’s weird. You should have a real goddamn name. I’m gonna call you somethin’ different. Somethin’ normal. Like, Bob. Okay? That okay with you? Bob?”</p><p>Death stared at him stoically, not answering. (This guy and Frank should have a staring contest sometime. Shit! Harry would buy fuckin’ tickets for that.) Harry figured that was the best response he was going to get, so he continued, “Yeah, that sounds better. So, Bob, I can tell you right now that I ain’t no <i>fuckin’ savior</i>. Not now, not ever. No one… and I do mean <i>no one</i> who has <i>ever</i> met me would think of me as a fuckin’ savior.”</p><p>Death slowly shook his head in disagreement. “No, Master. You are not ‘saving’ someone, so to speak. You are merely maintaining the balance. There is no ‘saving’, there is only balance, and the necessity to maintain it.”</p><p>“Fine,” Harry huffed out. “Right. Okay, Bob. So how do I ‘re-balance’ myself down to where my family is?”</p><p>Death appeared to gaze behind Harry, or through him, or maybe just zone out in his own thoughts for a fuckin’ moment. “There are always other souls that can be exchanged to maintain balance, Master. And, might I say, I concur with your previous suggestion. I will thus forth be referred to as ‘Bob’.”</p><p>Harry leaned his head back against the couch and cackled at the absolute ludicrousness of this whole conversation. “Fuckin’-a, Bob. You’re a trip. Right, so I just choose a random soul then? Then, Bob’s your uncle, I’m home?”</p><p>“I do not understand. Whose uncle would I be?”</p><p>Harry dragged his hand down his face while groaning. “It’s a fuckin’ saying, Bob. Not you, ‘Bob’, but some other random ‘Bob’. Oh, just forget it. So, like I said earlier, I can just choose a random soul?”</p><p>“Yes, you have that power as the Master of Death. It is part of your power over me, to choose who is reaped, with a few exceptions. You merely need to name a soul.”</p><p>“Well, shit, Bob. There’re <i>so</i> many people I wish to rid the world of. The list is real, real long, I’m tellin’ ya.” Harry tapped his fingers against his chin in thought, trying to choose between all the shit stains that Frank and he had come up against, that they weren’t able to kill. Then he sent Death a shitty, sarcastic smirk. “You know, though, I’m almost tempted to say some stupid shit, just to fuck around with you, even though I <i>know</i> nothin’ will happen. Like, okay… I got it. I want to you to kill Elvis Presley and I’ll take his soul’s place, to even out this whole balance shit.” </p><p>Harry snickered. He knew nothing would happen, but it was hilarious to think about Death trying to deal with that choice.</p><p>“Done.”</p><p>“Wait… whaa? What? Uh, seriously, what now?” Harry squeaked, quickly leaning forward to stare at the pale man in the chair. “Elvis Presley is <i>dead</i>, Bob. You can’t fuckin’ kill a dead man.”</p><p>“Well, yes, he is dead now. You have chosen to exchange your soul with his. He was just marked for death, and his soul is being reaped… now,” Death said as he glanced at his silver pocket watch.</p><p>Harry sat on the couch, slack-jawed and in shock. “Bob… my man, my morbid dead dude, my king of all things macabre, my original goth, my Grim Reaper-ey minion. I don’t think you understand what I’m sayin’ here. <i>You can’t kill a dead man</i>. It’s just not possible. He’s <i>already</i> dead. He died in, like, 1977 or some shit. I would know. Luna loves his music, for some unknown reason.” </p><p>Harry rolled his eyes and scoffed, “I’m seriously not a fan. Give me Black Sabbath, Ozzy or Metallica any day. Or some Rob Zombie. You know, ‘Living Dead Girl’? You’d probably love that song. Instead, I’m tortured with ‘Dainty Little Moonbeams’ every time we are on a short break on a mission, and she wants to fuckin’ dance with me. Or, if she’s feelin’ real bizarre, when we’re ‘interrogating’ someone and they’re not speakin’ up, she’ll hum out ‘A Little Less Conversation’ just to freak ‘em out. Which, okay, that’s pretty cool, honestly. But believe me when I say <i>I know</i> Elvis is dead. And, as far as I know, you can’t kill a man who’s <i>already dead</i>.”</p><p>“Master,” Death told him with a patient tone, “if anyone were to realize that you cannot reap a soul that has already been reaped, it would be me. I have, after all, been reaping souls since the beginning of time. However, I can assure you that the man known as Elvis Presley was not reaped in 1977, as you so believed. He was reaped,” Death looked at his watch again, “two minutes and thirteen seconds ago.”</p><p>“Hoooly shit,” Harry breathed out in disbelief. “Do you know what this means??”</p><p>Death nodded in understanding, “Yes, of course I do, Master. It means that balance will be restored with his reaping, and you are able to join your family back down on Earth.”</p><p>“Bob… no. I mean, yeah, sure, but <i>no</i>. This means that <i>I fuckin’ killed Elvis!!!</i> A national fuckin’ treasure. The <i>original</i> heartthrob. Not only that, but omygod! Those conspiracy nuts were right!! He has been alive and in hiding this whole freakin’ time!” Harry squawked. He hung his head, bracing it in his hands, then snapped it up with a sudden horrific realization. “Oh crap! Luna’s gonna <i>kill</i> me!”</p><p>Death scrutinized Harry for a moment before nodding sagely, “Well, Master, if that does happen, then you will merely join me again. I see no issue with this situation. I am not sure why you are reacting as such.”</p><p>Harry’s mouth dropped open again, shocked at the man’s words. “You see no… you see no issue with this situation??” He shook his head, trying to clear it from this whole insane situation. “No, I guess you wouldn’t see any issue. A soul is a soul, is a soul to you. Doesn’t matter how famous or ‘undead’ they are.” Huffing out a frustrated breath, Harry groaned. “Fine, I guess what’s done is done. I mean, I feel kinda bad, but I guess not many people will realize that he died. Again. So, I won’t be, like, burned at the stake for killing a beloved fuckin’ national icon.”</p><p>“Again, Master, if that does happen, I will merely reap your soul and you will come here to begin your work. Also, I do not reap the undead. They have no souls. They are beyond my reach. I am not fond of them, as they have found a way to escape my domain. In fact, I do not believe that I would enjoy this ‘Living Dead Girl’ of which you speak.” Death furrowed his brow slightly, showing a little frustrated emotion through his blank mask.</p><p>Dropping his head back against the couch, Harry groaned out an annoyed grunt. “Bob, dude, it’s a frickin’ song. Not a real living dead… wait, did you say beings without souls? You’ve <i>got</i> to stop dropping these bombs of insane information on me. Undead? Like zombies and shit? Like Night of the Living Dead crap? Ugh, can we just cover that next time I fuckin’ ‘kick the bucket’ and come hang out with you? I think I’m full up on information overload right now, and I really need to figure out how to explain how I came up here, how I talked to <i>Death</i>, and how I <i>killed Elvis</i> to get back down to my family. Yeah, it’s a bit much.”</p><p>Death stood there for a moment, silent, then he finally said, “That is acceptable, Master. We will discuss more the next time I reap your soul. For now, I agree. It is time for you to return. You have made your choice. You have tipped the balance toward death, and so you must return to life to maintain it.”</p><p>Harry wiped his hands down his thighs before standing. “Yep, it’s been real, but it’s time to bounce. Okay, so I’m gonna try to not come up here for a while, yeah?”</p><p>Pulling out his watch and checking it, Death hummed under his breath. “Although time means nothing to me, so it will be either moments or eons before I see you again, I can say that in your world’s time it will be a few years before we meet again.”</p><p>Breathing in a deep, relieved breath, Harry gave Death a genuine smile. “Right, and <i>next time</i> I’ll choose someone who <i>really</i> needs to die. Not some random snarky ass sarcastic choice. Not a fuckin’ revered original celebrity teen idol… even if I do think they’re dead already. I promise.”</p><p>Death dipped his head in acknowledgement, “As you wish, Master. That is, after all, your prerogative.”</p><p>Harry reached out his hand to give Death a handshake, ready to head back to his body, to his family.</p><p>Death looked at his outstretched hand curiously, keeping his own at his sides.</p><p>Huffing out an amused laugh, Harry said, “You shake it. You put your hand in mine, then we shake it up and down. It’s a greeting or a way of saying goodbye. Or a way of agreeing. Either way, put your hand in my hand and I’ll show you what to do.”</p><p>Slowly putting his hand in Harry’s, Death’s eyes widened while he shook Harry’s gloved hand.</p><p>Harry’s eyes crinkled in amusement at Death’s reaction, dropping his hand back down after a moment. “Okay, Bob. Send me back home. I’ll see you in a few years. And by then, hopefully, I’ll be better at this whole ‘Master of Death’ thing. I’ll get Luna to explain more, after she inevitably murders me in my sleep for killing her one of favorite musicians.”</p><p>Death motioned to the door that had appeared again. “Through there, Master. And, might I say, it was a pleasure finally meeting you. I look forward to working together.”</p><p>Striding toward the door, Harry looked back at Death and smirked, “Bob, it’s been an interesting pleasure to meet you too. Let’s just hope Luna can keep from killing me over this whole Elvis BS for a while so that it <i>will be</i> a few years before I see you again.” He turned the knob on the door and opened it into a dark swirling vacuum of space. Glancing back one last time, he said, “Later, Bob. Thanks.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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    <b>----------</b>
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</div><p>
  <b>--- August 21<sup>st</sup>, 1999 (Nineteen Years Old) ---</b>
</p><p>
  <b>--- New Jersey – Kingpin’s Drug Warehouse ---</b>
</p><p>“Kid! <i>KID!!</i> Fuckin’ wake up, kid! Come on, don’t do this shit! You’re fine, you’re good. Jesus Christ, kid. You’re gonna be okay, just wake the fuck up! Goddamnit! Come on!”</p><p>Harry could hear Frank yelling at him in the warehouse. He could feel the pressure against his neck as he pressed a pressure bandage to where Harry had been shot. He felt when Frank leaned down and placed his head against his chest, probably listening for a heartbeat. One that may or may not be there at the moment. It felt weird coming back to his body. He didn’t have the ability to move or let them know he was ok, but he was able to hear them move around.</p><p>“Wade, you asshole, stop just walkin’ around and fuckin’ do something!” Frank barked out at the other man, as close to panic as Harry had ever heard him. </p><p>Harry could hear Wade pacing up and down near his head, “I called Wolvie, he’s on the way. The cavalry is comin’, Frankie.” Harry heard him suck in a deep breath and yell out a frustrated, “Shit! The author is not tellin’ me anything! She’s MIA. What the fuck good is an author who doesn’t tell the characters what to do?? I mean, that’s her whole job! To tell us what to do. Oh crap! What do I do? Does he need mouth to mouth? Can I do that through my mask? Or, I can take off my mask. I like Scourgie a lot. He’s totally worth it. And I don’t mind kissin’ him. I’d even slip him some tongue, if needed. He’s super cute with that silver ‘n black mohawk and eyebrow piercing. Very punk. Think you could talk him into getting a tongue piercing? Those are <i>super</i> saaaxxxy. I can see it now… in one of the alternate universes we could be boyfriends, and that would come in hella handy. Or husbands! Or even star-crossed lovers. A real fated romance. I can see the hearts in the eyes of the readers now. I’ll wear a pink outfit with matching pink katanas. Scourge will bring me flowers, probably black ones since his whole schtick is being all emo/punk. Yeah, maybe next fanfic I’ll do that.”</p><p>“Wade… Shut. The. Fuck. Up. You are <i>not</i> helping! And where the fuck did Sprite pop out to?” Frank growled.</p><p>“Uh,” Wade said, “weeelll…”</p><p>Just then, Harry felt the air rush into his lungs, and he sucked in a deep, revitalizing breath. He gasped and coughed out a little from the blood that had gathered in his lungs, quickly turning on his side into the recovery position. Spitting and coughing out blood, he attempted to gain his bearings and start to breathe normally. Frank still held onto his neck, presumably attempting to stop more bleeding, while patting him on the back (a little harder than was warranted) to help him clear his lungs.</p><p>“Bitty Baby Scourge!! You’re alive! We were so worried! Don’t do that! I almost died from sadness… I mean I would have gotten better, but I would have been <i>really</i> sad about it. Total mood killer,” Wade cried out while leaning down to pat Harry’s head.</p><p>“That’s it, kid! There you go, breathe in. Slowly, now. Help’s on the way. We’ll get you out of here soon. Fuck. Come on, just breathe, kid,” Frank said as he attempted to help Harry.</p><p>Sitting up slowly, Harry reached up and pulled Frank’s hand and the bandage away from his neck, amidst Frank’s protests. He gripped Frank’s hand and gestured up to his neck. “Frank, it’s cool. I’m good. It’s all good. Check it out,” Harry whispered harshly, still trying to get a decent breathing pattern down.</p><p>Frank leaned in to look at his neck, still covered in blood. He prodded his fingers against where there <i>should</i> have been a bullet hole, but Harry knew that he would find nothing.</p><p>“See? There’s nothing there, is there?” Harry asked, confident that his neck was completely healed from where he had been shot. After all, when he was up talking to Bob there wasn’t a wound, and he probably wouldn’t be sent down just to die right again. (Well, he <i>might</i> die right again if Luna gets ahold of him after he explains about Elvis. But he would cross <i>that</i> bridge when he came to it.)</p><p>Frank sat back and looked intently at his hand, which was covered in Harry’s blood, and back to Harry’s neck in confusion. His brows crinkled together, and he whispered, “What the fuck? How the fuck…”</p><p>Harry sent him a smug smirk, which was ruined by another coughing fit. “I know, right? Pretty fuckin’ cool!” He exclaimed after he finally got his breath again.</p><p>“What the fuck, kid! You were shot. I <i>know</i> you were shot. I fuckin’ held the bloody bandage over the wound that was pissin’ blood everywhere.” Frank prodded at Harry’s neck again before Harry leaned away and shrugged his arm off.</p><p>“Seriously, though, kid. You were shot,” Frank rasped out. “You were down. I <i>heard</i> you over the comms.”</p><p>Wade looked like he was thumb wrestling himself as he stood there next to them, twitching with energy. (Harry thought maybe it was time for Wade to cut back on the caffeine.) “Yeah, Bitty, we all heard it. Moon yelled out over the comms about a sniper up in the rafters. Then you got all pissed at her because she was standing in the, and I quote, ‘Goddamned fuckin’ middle of the fuckin’ room like a lit up fuckin’ target waving a fuckin' sign that says fuckin' shoot me!’ Which, you know, you should watch how you talk to women. I mean, that's a lot of swearing at our wonderful Sprite. And think about equality and all that jazz! They are just as good as us… maybe better. I know that I could <i>never</i> pull off some of those outfits that she rocks. I mean, did you <i>see</i> the sequined shoes that Tommy McVoldiepants sent her? Oh. My. God. To be honest, though, they’d probably make my ass look even better. Okay, but seriously, you should never assume that a woman needs saving or even <i>anything</i> from a man!”</p><p>“Dude,” Harry groaned, rolling his eyes. “I get it. You can shut up about all of that. If anyone in this world knows how capable Moon is, it’s fuckin’ <i>me</i>. I think the issue was that I was more worried about the fact that we were bein’ shot at like sitting fuckin’ ducks! I remember telling her to find cover. I remember putting up shields. I remember tackling her to the ground and I remember… well, not much after that, to be honest.”</p><p>Harry looked between Frank (who was still glancing from Harry’s neck and back to his bloody hand with a perplexed look) and Wade (who was doing… was he making shadow puppets? Harry honestly didn’t want to know, as he had more important things to worry about), waiting for an explanation of what actually happened after he lost track of the whole mission. While he was waiting for one of them to speak up, however, he noticed one glaringly, terrifyingly <i>horrific</i> thing. His fuckin’ Moonbeam was missing! He quickly got to his feet, intent on finding her. (Okay, not so quickly. Apparently dying takes a little toll on a person. Harry didn’t know how Wade did it all the time and just bounced back to fight right away. Must be all the caffeine.)</p><p>“Where the fuck is Moon??” Harry gasped out, leaning on Frank as he attempted to find his bearings and his best friend.</p><p>Wade bounced up and down on his toes and snorted. “She popped out. Just like that. ‘Crack!’ She said that she would be right back with something to fix this whole situation. Not sure what that means, but I’m sure it’ll be good, whatever it is. She’s totally fine, though. The author verified that no one dies in this story. Well, except you… once. And the people in the warehouse, to include the sniper. But not <i>a lot</i> of murder. Especially for one of her books!”</p><p>Frank glared at Wade and growled out, “Wade, shut the fuck up about that shit. You talk more shit about crap that <i>no one</i> understands.” He huffed out a resigned sigh and turned to Harry. “I heard you fade out over the comms after you tackled her, kid. She called out about the sniper, then you got shot, then she got fuckin’ livid. If I hadn’t been so pissed off myself that you went and fuckin’ got yourself shot, I would have been laughin’ my ass off at how mad she fuckin’ got at that sniper. I heard her throwing her spells around while I was runnin’ back to save your ass.”</p><p>Snickering and pointing over to a bloody mass of what, Harry could only assume, <i>used</i> to be a human being, Wade giggled, “That’s what’s left of the guy who shot you, Scourgie. I finished with my guys and came back just in time to see an angry Sprite make that man go <i>boom!</i> It was like… KABLOOEY!!! You know all those cool words that come on the screen during a sweet Batman fight? Yeah, it was like that.” Wade laughed and shook his head as he described the fight. “Then, Frankie finished all of his guys and came over to you. And you looked all tragic, laying there on the ground. Very 'Reservoir Dogs' of you. It looked like a decent cinematic sad ending. But then… you’re back! And all is good again!”</p><p>Harry raised his eyebrows at Wade’s description of his dead body before he glanced at the mound of pulped flesh of the sniper again. He breathed out an impressed, “Hoooly shit. She made fuckin’ <i>hamburger</i> out of him. That guy looks worse than the Russian you took on in ’91. You remember that, Frank?”</p><p>Frank grunted, apparently still not super thrilled that Harry had been shot and died… even though he got better! He mumbled about things being too fuckin’ weird and magic, then he shook his head as if to clear the bizarreness of the whole situation out.</p><p>“Seriously, though, kid. Stay the fuck on topic here. I’m super happy you’re here. You’re alive and you don’t have a hole through your goddamn neck. But, <i>how</i> is that possible? How did you get healed?”</p><p>Harry, who had regained most of his ability to function normally, took a deep breath and asked Frank, “Do you mind if we wait for Moon? I don’t want to have to explain…”</p><p>Just as Harry was asking to wait, a crack of apparition was heard at the door of the warehouse. Followed quickly by the… smell of pizza??? The three men jerked to see if it was Luna who was returning, and there she stood, carrying two steaming boxes of pizza from one of their favorite restaurants in New York. </p><p>Luna graced Harry with a beaming smile and said, “Hi there, Scourge! I see that Bob sent you back all better and in one piece. That’s better than the Nargle in the sky who tried to hurt you. Don’t you worry, though. I found him. I made him into a firework. He isn’t in one piece anymore, though.” </p><p>How Luna could stand there, so freakin’ sweet, and describe exploding a man to death in such interesting terms, Harry would never understand. But he fuckin’ <i>loved</i> it. It was one of his favorite things about his Moonbeam.</p><p>“Anyway! I brought us some pizza to make everyone feel better, because pizza fixes <i>everything</i>” she explained. “And don’t you worry, Mr. Punisher, sir. You and Scourge get your own boring pizza to share. I got one just for Mr. Pool and I to eat.” She sent a radiant smile to Wade and said, “I got your favorite, Mr. Pool! White sauce, pineapple and gummy worms! See? I remembered how much you loved that last time.”</p><p>Harry watched as Wade’s mask crinkled in confusion. Wade tilted his head and nodded his thanks at her. “So sweet, Sprite. I kind of meant white sauce and pineapple <i>followed</i> by a bag of gummy worms, but you know what?? This works too! A new creation! Look out Molto Mario, Sprite and Deadpool will kick your ass straight out of cooking shows!”</p><p>If looks could kill, Frank would have murdered them all by now due to his frustration over this whole situation. “Everyone… shut. The. Fuck. Up.” He glared at Luna and snarled, “Who runs out during a fuckin’ mission to get a damn pizza??” He dropped his head in his hand the moment the last word left his lips and mumbled to himself. “No, wait, I know the answer to that. No need to say a fuckin’ word. I chose to spend my professional life working with Deadpool and Sprite. It’s my own fault, really. I should have figured that someone would have left to grab food… while my <i>fuckin’ son</i> was bleedin’ out on the goddamn concrete floor.”</p><p>Luna walked over and tentatively patted Frank on the shoulder to console him. “The mission was over, though, Mr. Punisher, sir. And don’t be silly. I would <i>never</i> leave Scourge if he was in real trouble. Like I said, I knew he wasn’t in trouble at all. He was with Bob. And I knew he would be hungry when he came back.”</p><p>Frank lifted his head and stared at her in disbelief. Before he could say anything, Wade piped up, “I’m hungry, and I didn’t even die this time. I’ll be happy to share the pizza, even with the gummy worms on it.”</p><p>Ignoring Wade, Frank looked at Luna for a long moment before asking, “What about this Bob?</p><p>Harry and Dead jerked their heads to look at each other, yelling out together, “Great movie!... Jinx!... You owe me a Coke!"</p><p>Luna sang quietly,</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>“<span class="big"><b>I</b></span> feel good,</i><br/>
<i><span class="big"><b>I</b></span> feel great,</i><br/>
<i><span class="big"><b>I</b></span> feel wonderful…”</i>
  </p>
</div><p>Frank snarled at all of them, “And <i>I</i> feel like I want to kill somebody. Wade, you're about to become a volunteer." Breathing in a deep breath through his nose, Frank grumbled, "Okay, fuck it. Fine. Pizza, that’s what we’re doing. Good. Whatever. All of us to the van, now. We’ll call in a clean-up crew to deal with this shit. Wade, call Logan and tell him to meet us at the house. Let him know that the kid is fine.”</p><p>Luna interjected, “Make sure he knows to bring his own pizza.”</p><p>Harry nodded and put his arm around her. “Yeah, I’m fuckin’ starvin’ and I don’t think there’ll be enough for everyone.”</p><p>Wade shrugged, “I dunno, though. He could share some of the gummy worms.”</p><p>“Sonofafuckinbitch… I wish Logan <i>were</i> here, because I’m surrounded by goddamn idiots,” Frank mumbled to himself.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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    <b>----------</b>
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</div><p>
  <b>--- August 21<sup>st</sup>, 1999 (Nineteen Years Old) ---</b>
</p><p>
  <b>--- One of Their <i>Many</i> New York Safehouses ---</b>
</p><p>Logan stared, disgusted, at Luna and Wade, who was lifting his mask every time he took a bite of pizza, as they devoured an offensive mishmash of pineapple and gummy worms on white sauced pizza. </p><p>Wade assured everyone that it wasn’t even the worst thing he had eaten. “9/10 – I would eat again.”</p><p>Luna preened at the praise of her pizza choice while Harry, Frank and Logan stared at the two of them in disbelief. </p><p>“See? I told you,” she gloated.</p><p>Wade nodded then spoke, voice muffled due to a mouth full of baked dough and gummy worms, “Yep! Next Iron Chef in the making.”</p><p>Pursing her lips in frustration, Luna replied, “But I don’t speak Japanese.”</p><p>Harry piped up, trying to make her feel better. “No worries, Moon! You can learn… I’ll teach you.”</p><p>Wade, who had <i>finally</i> swallowed his huge bite, nodded. “I’m in! I could totally rock a kimono.”</p><p>Smiling at Harry’s solution for her becoming the next Iron Chef, Luna agreed with Wade. “Oh yes! I want a blue one!”</p><p>Harry snorted, “Well, fuck. Might as well put me down for black.”</p><p>Frank, having finally reached the limit of his patience, which, let’s be honest wasn’t much to begin with. Having finally had enough with the ridiculous conversations snarled for everyone to shut up about pizza and damn cooking shows and Japan. Logan even helped drive the point home by pulling out his claws. (The point… get it?)</p><p>Harry shrugged at Frank’s outburst, knowing that the man wouldn’t actually do anything to hurt him. (He had just been shot, after all!) “I dunno, Frank. Japan would be cool for a while. Just sayin’.”</p><p>Frank scrutinized Harry for a long moment before saying very lowly and succinctly, “Kid… you better behave and start explainin’ about shit before I put a boot up your ass. <i>Just sayin’</i>.”</p><p>Snorting at Frank, but quietly because he didn’t want to really piss off the man more, Harry said, “Fine. I’ll behave. You don’t need to shoot me or anything.” He tipped his head back against his chair and cackled. “Too soon? That was too soon, wasn’t it?”</p><p>Wade and Luna snickered behind their hands. Logan rolled his eyes, and Frank… well, the throbbing vein on his forehead was totally becoming more visible. Harry figured it was time to actually calm down and explain.</p><p>He told everyone about how he <i>did</i> die. (“Before you freak out, Frank, I got better! Like 100% better. All good.”) Harry described the room he woke up in, and how confused he was. He explained about meeting Death and learning about being the Master of Death and what that meant.</p><p>“Yes, yes, Luna. You were right. Like that was any big surprise,” Harry snarked.</p><p>Luna sent him a serene smile. “Of course, silly! I told you that!”</p><p>Wade nodded in agreement, “Well, duh! We all knew that! Didn’t you read the end of the last book? Hello!!! That’s what she was talking about! I mean, talk about <i>foreshadowing</i>! I guess I can see how you might have lost that bit during the epic reunion scene… which should have taken place in a field of flowers, in my opinion. I’m just sayin’. But I guess the author wanted to bring the story full circle or some such crap. Seriously. What a fucking trope. And you didn’t even end up with that <i>scrumptious</i> piece of Slytherin ass..”</p><p>Harry held up his hand to interrupt his rant. “Dude, stop. <i>No one</i> has any clue what you are talking about.”</p><p>Raising her hand as if someone in the room was going to fuckin’ call on her, Luna said, “I do. Theo was cute. I thought he would come back in the sequel.”</p><p>Wade clicked his tongue, showing his disappointment. “It’s just lazy writing, if you ask me. She didn’t want to add too many characters.” </p><p>Logan eyed Wade and Luna before grumbling, “Do I need to bring out my claws again? Cus I can. If you two don’t shut yer damn yaps, I’m gonna.”</p><p>Huffing out an <i>extremely</i> frustrated sigh, Frank ordered, “Fuckin’ right. No one talks except the kid. <i>NO ONE</i>… got it?”</p><p>Both Luna and Wade mimed zipping their lips, much to the amusement of Harry.</p><p>Harry figured this was a good time to continue, before Frank finally broke and shot Wade, just to kill someone and get some stress out. So, he told them about how Death and he talked. How he learned about the fact that he was the one who would help reap souls. He described how Death looked, how awesome his Victorian steampunk ‘vibe’ was. </p><p>Logan mumbled to Frank, “Whatever the fuck that means.”</p><p>Frank nodded in resignation, “We’re gettin’ too old for this shit.”</p><p>“Well, you guys can’t retire or die just yet. You’ve still got things to teach me, sensei,” Harry giggled at both of them. “Although, I <i>do</i> have an ‘in’ with Death.”</p><p>“Yeah, kid. About that. Are you able to just live forever now? How does that whole thing work?”</p><p>Harry felt the pizza he had eaten earlier form a heavy brick in his stomach. He glanced at Luna uncertainly, and started to twiddle his thumbs and nervously shake his leg up and down.</p><p>“Uh, right. Well, you see… um. You have to trade with another soul,” Harry said quietly.</p><p>Luna finally piped up again, “Oh yes! It’s just like with the Umgubular Slashkilters and the Nargles. It is all about balance.”</p><p>Sheepishly, Harry nodded. “Yeah, just like that.” He knew this was going to end so fuckin’ bad. He just <i>knew</i> it. For a moment there, when they were all eating pizza (or trying not to throw up while watching Wade eat pizza), Harry forgot what he had done. Now, now he was going to pay.</p><p>Frank perked up at that information. “So, you could take out anyone? That is great, kid. What shit stain did you choose to rid the world of?”</p><p>Harry shrunk further into his chair out of fear, attempting not to meet the eyes of Luna.</p><p>“Well?” Frank prodded.</p><p>Harry blurted out, “You have to understand! I was joking, you know? Like how I fuckin’ <i>always</i> joke. I mean, you guys all know I’m a smart ass. And how was I supposed to know he was still alive??? I said it as a total fuckin’ joke. And then, when it didn’t happen, I was going to choose someone like Kingpin, cus I was all pissed off about bein’ shot. Or maybe Mordo, to help out Dr. Strange for all he’s done for me. I fuckin’ <i>swear</i> that’s what I was going to do!”</p><p>Tilting his head to the side in curiosity, Wade asked, “Bitty, just <i>who</i> did you kill?”</p><p>“<span class="small">my dmght hvme kmlld mlvis</span>,” Harry mumbled, trying to make himself as small as humanly possible in his chair.</p><p>“Who?” Logan asked. “I didn’t understand that mumble crap. Spell it out, bub.”</p><p>Harry squinted his eyes and leaned back from Luna in preparation for a hit. “Uh, I might have killed Elvis?”</p><p>"Elvis Presley??" Frank coughed out in surprise.</p><p>Luna sprung up from the couch and shrieked, “You did <i>WHAT??</i>” She quickly pulled her wand from her hair and pointed it threateningly at Harry.</p><p>Raising both hands in surrender, Harry pleaded with her, “I had no idea he was even alive! It was a freakin’ joke, Moon. Just a joke!”</p><p>Wade hummed in observation, “You know, that makes it, like, a thousand times worse. You killed a national icon. The <i>original</i> King. He’s a hunka-hunka dead love now. And you did it as a <i>joke</i>.” He glanced at Luna, whose hair had started to swirl with her anger. Looking back at Harry’s defensive posturing, he chuckled. “OOooh, you in trouble now.”</p><p>Harry shouted out in his own defense, “I DIDN’T MEAN IT!!”</p><p>Luna narrowed her eyes and sent a stinging hex at his leg. “You killed my favorite singer!” She hollered.</p><p>“He was ALREADY DEAD!!! You can’t kill a dead man, Moon. You can’t get mad at me for killing a <i>dead guy</i>!!” Harry hollered back, as he parkoured around the living room, attempting to dodge Luna’s spells. </p><p>Luna snarled at him, “Watch me!” She managed to shoot out a couple spells in succession and hit Harry dead on. (Stupid training. Harry would need to stop helping her get better at fighting, damnit.)</p><p>After managing to turn Harry’s hair into a horrible shade of green with orange stripes, and coloring his favorite dragonhide armor pink with yellow polka dots, Luna turned away from the men and waltzed out of the living room in a huff.</p><p>Logan smirked at Harry, who stood there dumbfounded and slack jawed. Wade cackled at his new colorful look.</p><p>And Frank? Well, he offered his best advice, while chuckling at his kid. “You better fuckin’ grovel, kid. This shit ain’t gonna be fixed with no fuckin’ pizza.”</p><p>Harry looked down at his cloak, at the guys, and finally toward the direction of Luna’s room. He shook his head in defeat and whispered to himself, “Fuck.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Names for Death:<br/><sup>1.</sup> Thanatos (Greek); <sup>2.</sup> Yama (Hindu); <sup>3.</sup> Osiris (Egyptian); <sup>4.</sup> Mot (Canaanite); <sup>5.</sup> Ah Puch (Maya); <sup>6.</sup> Shinigami (Japanese)<br/><sup>7.</sup> Urban Dictionary was started in 1999, but most definitions start around 2003; <i>ref: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urban_Dictionary</i></p><p>Movies/TV Quoted/Referenced (Ohhh boy, I got quite a few in this one, guys):</p><ol>
<li>Mr. Belvedere (TV - 1985-1990)</li>
<li>Batman (Various – Introduced 1943)</li>
<li>Murder by Death (1976)</li>
<li>Supernatural* (TV – 2005-2020)</li>
<li>He-Man and the Masters of the Universe (TV - 1983-1985)</li>
<li>Home Alone (1990)</li>
<li>Night of the Living Dead (1968)</li>
<li>The Princess Bride (1987)</li>
<li>Reservoir Dogs (1992)</li>
<li>What About Bob? (1991)</li>
<li>The Lion King (1994)</li>
<li>Iron Chef (Original Japanese Version – 1993-2002)</li>
<li>Lethal Weapon (1987)</li>
</ol><p>(*Although Supernatural <i>is</i> outside the date range to be referenced in this story, Death says Castiel’s phrase ‘I {do not} understand that reference’ too many times to ignore mentioning the reference.)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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